Endeavors of a Lonely Man on eHarmony
by Ameba
Summary: Hi! I’m Matsuda. Nice to meet you! I, uh, would like to know you better. Why don’t you comment on my profile, and then we can hook up? Yeah, Yeah, the title totally is self explanatory. Hahaha, Yes, we love you, Dr. Phil!
1. First Impressions

Matsuda was very excited. More excited than Julia Child. So excited that his pants were getting tighter.

He took a satisfied final look at the blinking computer screen and then pressed enter with sweaty palms. It was done. His destiny was forever changed. And

"Touta Matsuda, 松田 桃太" was a proud newb of eHarmony, many thanks to Dr. Phil and a few too many bottles of Coors Light. What paradise could be better than this? No girl would be able to resist his manly charms: they would flock to the great, magnificent, suave Matsuda. Not just any girl – hot girls. Yeah.

… Well, maybe a secluded island with a native population of naked girls without inhibitions. That could work as well.

But moving on: with that, Matsuda rubbed his palms together, licked his chapped lips, and continued to stare at the computer screen.

**Touta Matsuda**

[Insert _Photoshopped_ picture of Matsuda in a Speedo]

**Age: 26**

**Residence: Undisclosed**

**Hobbies: Going to the gym, watching college football, getting trashed, looking at pictures of Megan Fox, uh… manly things.**

**Interests: Solving crimes, Pretty girls.**

**Looking For: Women: friends/sexual relationships**

**Personal Message:**

**Hi! I'm Matsuda. Nice to meet you!! I, uh, would like to know you better. Why don't you comment on my profile, and then we can hook up? I'm a sexy guy who can also cook – while "satisfying" your utmost needs (which I'm quite experienced at… Really.). **

He thought that would be enough, for now at least. If the ladies needed more, they could come to the big man himself. Matsuda smiled and sighed. He glanced at the clock, noting that it was already past midnight. Aahhh………he'd have to go to bed and get some beauty sleep. After all, manly men can't always run straight on booze and caffeine. (Authors' Note: Coke and beer taste horrible together. Trust us.)

Then, he quickly deleted his web history before his mother, his dear, sweet mother, came to inspect what research on serial killers he had completed.


	2. Breakdown

**This is a collaboration between the Child of Paradise and Ameba, who were formerly crazy Death Note addicts.  
Yes, formerly.  
We have moved on.  
Yes, we are random.  
Yes, you can question our intellect.  
Yes, we are big fans of Pokemon and Disney movies.  
Ye- I mean, no, we don't eat children.  
Really.  
We just really, really, really like torturing matsuda.  
Poor him.  
You better review this.**

**Or else....**

* * *

"Don't. Move." A quiet voice called out, a voice that barely registered in the vast expanse of the cold, metal room.

The two figures, dressed in smart, black suits, abruptly stopped, and marveled at the sight before them.

It seemed like someone didn't go to sleep.

There was no body to the voice, hidden expertly by a palace of tarot cards.

It seemed like someone spent his time playing psychic?

"What is it now?" a figure carefully emerged, approaching the agents with only a look that could be described as disinterest.

The two agents took on imploring looks, scrambling to plead their case. "Sir, you have to accept this! Just press enter on the keyboard, and you're set! This is no trivial matter, something you can just shake off! This is NOT an offer, this a command, refusal isn't even an option! Either you comply, or the US government will fire you, and this time, they're serious! Please, this isn't an empty threat, it's a –" .

"I already said no, didn't I?"

"B-but you…"

"No. Tell them that." The answer came, along with a cold, dead stare of disgust.

Okay, the agents thought. Time to switch gears……..time to pull out another trick….

"Sir! The new toy you preordered is – "

"Robotron EX3-021-LS734-098X is not a toy. It is an instrument of immense power. Do not underestimate its influence." Eyes narrowed, and the voice began to become sullen.

"What about, er, the 325 other Robotrons?" stammered the agents.

"Need you ask?" came the bitter reply. "Pokemon, Disney movies, Digimon, Bakugan. What do they have in common? They are all merely antiquated versions of the same thing. To keep up with the modern world, shop, shop, shop, shop like me at Toys R' Us. That is the whole principle of life. Shop, shop, shop, and total your credit card. What, you think it's a waste? What about those infant, toddler toys? What are they doing, collecting dust in a corner? Why don't you go save the world by recycling them? Huh, don't you feel sorry for those poor, disgusting, slobbering babies being robbed of their right to salivate over chewable toys? You –"

"SHUT UP!! THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD! IF YOU DON'T ACCEPT, WE'RE THROWING YOUR STUPID TOY OUT THE WINDOW! WE DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR TOY! WATCH IT FALL, AND WE'LL LAUGH!" (They are situated on Level 116 in the building.) The impassioned reply came from the female agent, deranged like a madwoman. She plowed straight through the house of cards and smirked at the figure sitting on the floor as the intricate building collapsed around her.

The male agent stood there, stunned by his partner's ferocity. He didn't even have time to think as she strode/ stomped to the window and threw it open.

"Watch me, my friend." She smiled, finally able to release some of her pent up anger. She dangled the stupid, frivolous robot outside. "Just press the damn button, or I'll-"

"TO HELL WITH THIS! GIVE ME MY TOYYYY!!!!! YOU SHITTY OLD HAG, I WANT IT BACK – NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

**---MEANWHILE---**

The screen flickered, and the posh lady on the news appeared (which Matsuda thought indeed was hot). Breaking news: Random passerby sent to hospital after a deleterious head injury from unknown source that fell from the sky. Whatever. Matsuda only watched the news to see the lady.

Okay, time to check his profile.

What? Was he hallucinating? Too many meds?

Matsuda rubbed his eyes, straining to get a better look at the glowing screen. Was this for real? Or was fate playing some cruel game with his life – again? He breathed deeply; according to his _Yoga: Fun and Easy_ DVD, for about the twentieth time. The past few weeks in his endeavors for a lady had not gone, uh, as well as he had thought they would. How could he have known that girls didn't exactly find guys in Speedos attractive? Even Light told him it was a good idea, so obviously, since he was such a lady killer, surely it wasn't faulty! Some people were just prudes, he thought. But something new had happened today, this night. Something that had never happened before. The website had actually found him a match! He could only display disbelief at this:

Congratulations!

You have been matched with **Far Springsteen!**

**Age: 24**

**Appearance: Young, short, curly light hair, thin. Good fashion sense.**

**Location: Kanto, Japan**

**Occupation: Kindergarten Teacher**

To find out more about **Far Springsteen**, please **send her a message**.

He had spent the past hour trying to figure this out. If he messaged this Far (? Was that even a name?) person, maybe she would want to spend some time with him! But on the other hand, she could reject him… rejection. Matsuda shuddered at the memory of all those girls with pouty lips who had snickered and smirked and said that one word: NO. It was like the apocalypse. Or Judgment day. After the rejection was always followed hard partying. If he could get into a club, that is.

What if Far was the same way? He couldn't afford another counseling session. But Matsuda dreamily smiled at the thought of Light and Misa, that perfect couple, and he decided to give this girl a shot. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do on a Friday night. He took another slice of greasy pizza and thought about what his reply should be. The girl probably wanted to know more about him. She was probably dying to get to know the hunk he was. Yes, that was it. Matsuda started typing a long paragraph about his great accomplishments. He made sure to include the bit about running a marathon. Girls seemed to like marathons.

Matsuda smiled in satisfaction when his message was finished and clicked the send button. Now, how long would she take to reply?

**---A WEEK LATER---**

PING!

Matsuda's drunken head shot up from the desk. What in hell was that sound? He quickly glanced around the sloppy room, trying to locate it. Was there a bomb? They were always trying to bomb the important people. Fortunately, Matsuda spotted a little red marker on the bottom of his computer screen. A message! He scrambled up from the chair and grabbed the mouse. Was it er, Far??? The mouse didn't seem to want to stay in his hand and kept sliding out. Matsuda took a deep breath to assemble his mind. He would have to be sober if he wanted to get anywhere with this girl. He calmly clicked the blinking red box.

**Hi! I'm Far! I've never really done one of these online dating sites, but my friend said it works well. If you want to meet up, just give me a call. ^^ 80-3111-1111**

Matsuda didn't remember what exactly happened next because he was fainted. Very manly, Matsuda.

This time, it was a disastrous mix of Red Bull and beer. (_Authors' Note_: Don't try this at home either. We promise. Just don't do it.)

* * *

**Guess who, guys?**

**You: Is it Near?**

**Us:......uh....**

**You: It does NOT SOUND LIKE NEAR! ARE YOU GUY RETARDED IDIOTS OR WHAT?**

**Us: No, we are not retarded. We never said it was Near, right?**

**You: What do you mean? Who else would....would....**

**Oh.**

**Us: Wait till the next chapter! *evil laughter resounds MWAHAHAHAH***

**That. Sounds. So. Cheesy.  
**


End file.
